


Alex's Hell

by jaythewriter



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Gen, contains blood and death and all that lovely stuff and also spoilers for the later entries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythewriter/pseuds/jaythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece from another story I was writing but don't plan on posting. Alex's Hell, basically, a nightmare he was having in the story from stress and stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alex's Hell

Empty, that’s all he is and all he feels like this, void of any and all true meaning and useless to himself and useful to the higher powers that force his hand upon strangers and friends alike. He stares into a room, one he thinks he might have been in once upon a time, clutching a camera and barking out orders left and right at actors who just can’t get the lines right. 

There ought to be exhausted actors huffing and puffing to one another, arms crossed over beating hearts and breathing lungs. 

Instead, bodies lie in their place, unmoving. The curtains are torn from their place atop the cracked windows, as though large claws went dragging through the red fabric. A still recording camera rests beside the pile of curtains, lying on its side and taking in the view of the nearest corpse-- one that looks dangerously similar to Amy’s.

Smiling faces gaze up at him with glassy eyes and frozen mouths. Dried tracks of red dribble from their lips, and each body is broken in its own way. 

A tall brunette girl that he once waved a gun at and tore a scream from bears a hole in her chest, a dark stain spread over her otherwise immaculate white shirt. 

Across from her, Amy, lovely even in death, is collapsed upon her side, legs pulled to lay at awkward and unnatural angles.

Brian sits against a wall (a wall of shards and shattered glass and pieces of wall peeling off oh ‘what’s this part supposed to mean’ oh what did it even mean Alex doesn’t even /remember/)-- and he slumps to the side, face blue, ski mask halfway pushed up his nose.

Tim is at Brian’s feet, on his knees, bowed over with his nose buried in the floor and whatever happened to him, Alex doesn’t even want to know. Fresh blood trails from his hidden face, and if Alex looks close enough, the string of his mask is visible around the back of his head.

Worst of all is the body dragged furthest from everyone else’s, and he doesn’t look any different from the video that’s still imprinted on the back of Alex’s eyelids, a back-and-forth wild ride for Tim as he chases after a hooded man, his best friend, desperate for revenge-- and he finds this man, finds Jay, resting like he simply sat down and drifted off but a terrible river of red is forming at his side and flowing down into the floor--

No--

Not again please--

/Bang/.


End file.
